Brush Strokes: The Adventures of Jane Lane
by Shallow15
Summary: Jane embarks on her own higher education adventure as she begins attending the Von Knipping Academy of Art in London.
1. Hello London

BRUSH STROKES:  
THE ADVENTURES OF JANE LANE  
  
by Erin Mills  
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Theme: "Lines"   
  
Pencil, charcoal, pastel and brush  
Across the canvas of life they play  
lines intersect, lines depart  
And so it goes on, day after day  
  
  
Lines...   
  
Following our path through life   
  
Lines...   
  
Through all of the pain and the strife   
  
Lines...   
  
Lines...   
  
Lines...   
  
(Opening sequence: We see a blank canvas, a hand comes in with a stub of charcoal and begins sketching. As each line is drawn we see ghostly images appear: Jane hugging Daria at an airport, Jane in the backseat of a cab, said cab passing by Trafalgar Square, Jane spattered with paint, side by side with a girl about the same age with red hair tied in a pony tail wearing a paint spattered blue blouse and spattered black flared jeans, Jane facing off against a moderately handsome guy with an arrogant expression and pencil thin mustache. As the theme ends, we pull back to see the picture being drawn is Jane in a circle, a paint brush in hand. The drawing turns color and goes off to the upper right corner of the screen with the title of the series. The title fades out and the title of the episode fades in:)   
  
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Episode 1: Hello London  
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(Fade in on an airliner flying through the sky. We dissolve to the interior of the plane and find our heroine, Jane Lane, leaning back in her seat, eyes closed, listening to her CD player. Her hair is slightly longer than it was, still in the same basic style but it isn't as angular as it used to be. There's a slight curl to her hair at the ends. leading in towards her face. There's a *bing* and Jane's eyes open. She slides the headphones off and listens.)   
  
PILOT: (On intercom) Ladies and gentlemen we are preparing our final approach into the greater London area. Please turn off any electronic organizers, cell phones, laptops, and other personal electronics. Also, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables have been returned to their full upright and locked positions. The local time is 1:56 PM Greenwich Standard Time.   
  
JANE: (yawns) Damn jetlag.   
  
(Cut to a gate at Heathrow Airport. Jane comes out of the gate, still yawning and looking like she's about to pass out. She's dressed in a red golf shirt, one of her dad's old photographic vests, her usual charcoal shorts, except she's not wearing her leggings and boots. Instead, she's wearing a pair of blue sneakers and neon orange socks. She picks up her luggage and schleps her way to Customs. She waits paitently in line, yawning occassionally. When it's her turn, she puts her bags up on the counter; A medium sized suitcase, her portfolio, and her round black carry on bag with the skull and crossbones on it [as seen in "The Teachings of Don Jake"]. The Customs official raises an eyebrow slightly, then picks up a clipboard.)   
  
CUSTOMS OFFICIAL: Passport and visa please. (Jane hands them over) And what brings you to Great Britain, Miss Lane?   
  
JANE: (All answers are deadpan from exhaustion) I'm attending school.   
  
OFFICIAL: And how long will you be staying in Great Britian?   
  
JANE: Until I graduate...but I'm planning on flying back to the States in late May.   
  
OFFICIAL: I see. (He looks at Jane.) Would you bring your luggage and follow me please?   
  
JANE: (quirks one eyebrow) What's the problem?   
  
OFFICIAL: There will be no problem, if you follow me, please.   
  
(Jane sighs, picks up her bags, and follows the official to a small back room. There is a stainless steel table and a mirror on the wall.)   
  
OFFICIAL: Place your bags on the table and open them, please.   
  
(Jane rolls her eyes and does so. The official rummages through the suitcase with Jane's clothes, then moves onto the portfolio. He pulls out a couple of sketches, and examines them, mild appreciation showing on his face.)   
  
JANE: I'm attending the Von Knipping Academy of Art.   
  
OFFICIAL: I can see why. (He puts the artwork back and moves onto the the carryon) Hmmmm... What have we here? (He pulls out the Stickmata 5000)   
  
JANE: Fastest glue gun on the market.   
  
OFFICIAL: Ah. (Pulls out a rubber chicken, followed by a teddy bear in bondage gear. He looks over at Jane, who smirks and shrugs.)   
  
JANE: Gag gift from my best friend.   
  
OFFICIAL: (holding up a plastic bag full of glow in the dark star stickers which bulges slightly.) May I open this bag, miss?   
  
JANE: Be my guest.   
  
(The official raches in and pulls out several wrapped condoms. The stars stick comically to them. Another raised eyebrow.)   
  
JANE: I fill 'em with paint and hurl them at the canvas. Plus you never know...   
  
OFFICIAL: Hmmm. (He puts the condoms back in the bag and sets it aside. He looks into the carryon again. His eyes widen at something in it and he signals for Jane to come closer.)   
  
OFFICIAL: What is that, miss?   
  
JANE: Exactly what it looks like.   
  
OFFICIAL: I see...would you switch it on, please?   
  
JANE: Sure. (She reaches into the carryon. There's a click and the carry on begins to vibrate and occasionally bounce on the table. The Customs official looks shocked for a moment while Jane simply smirks.)   
  
OFFICIAL: Um...yes, I believe that will be sufficent, Miss Lane.   
  
(Jane flips the switch again and the carry on stops moving. The official makes a few marks on the clipboard, then hands Jane her passport and visa.) Well, everything seems to be in order. Sorry for the delay. Welcome to London, Miss Lane.   
  
JANE: (Putting everything back in her bags) Thanks. Which way to the bus?   
  
(Cut to the interior of a bus, as Jane rides through the streets of London. We see several common landmarks, such as Nelson's Column, the London Bridge, and others. Eventually she gets off the bus in front of a large gated compound. Through the gate we can see several large house-like buildings. A large plaque next to the gate declares this to be the "Von Knipping Academy of Art." Jane opens the gate and begins making her way to the largest building. As soon as she reaches the steps that lead up to the building--)   
  
GIRL'S VOICE: Look out!   
  
(Jane looks up, surprised, sees a split second shot of a girl with red hair tied back in a ponytail and SPLAT! She's covered in wet plaster and lavender paint. She wipes the muck out of her eyes and looks at the mess that was once her luggage.)   
  
JANE: Where's Daria when I need her?   
  
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COMMERCIAL BREAK: Coming From Shallow 15 Productions: The Carnival is Coming...   
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(Back to the action. We see the front doors of the dormitory from the inside of the building. They open, and the still covered Jane comes in, hauling her luggage behind her. Cut to behind the desk at the other end of the room. To staitcases lead up from the ground floor on either side of the desk. Behind the desk is a middle aged woman with aubrun hair going slightly gray. She turns to look at the gunk covered apparition before her...and fights to keep from laughing.)   
  
WOMAN:(coming out from behind the desk) Oh my...are you all right, miss?   
  
(Jane drops her luggage.)   
  
JANE: Oh, fine, just point me in the direction of the redheaded psychopath who likes turning passersby into bad purple replicas of the Venus de Milo, call the closest hospital and tell them to expect someone in 15 minutes with an umbrella in a very uncomfortable place and I'll be fine.   
  
WOMAN: (laughs nervously, not sure whether Jane's serious or not.) Um...can I get you a towel?   
  
JANE: No, just get me to a shower before this stuff hardens. I'm supposed to be living here.   
  
WOMAN: Ah! I see. Well, in the light of the situation, we'll handle the paperwork later. Right now, if you'll just give me your name, I'll help you take all...this (indicates luggage) to your room.   
  
JANE: Jane Lane.   
  
WOMAN: Ah yes, the scholarship student. Pleased to meet you. I'm Mrs. Wilcox, the house mother. Well done on that, by the way. Not many American students have gotten the Friedman Memorial Scholarship.   
  
JANE: Yeah, great. About that shower?   
  
MRS. WILCOX: Oh, of course. So sorry. (looks over a clipboard) Ah, here you are...oh dear.   
  
JANE: What?   
  
MRS. WILCOX: Well...it appears that your roommate IS the redheaded psychopath responsible for your current, uh, appearance.   
  
(Close up on Jane)   
  
JANE: WHAT?!   
  
(Cut to a dorm room. We see a girl with red hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in a blue middy blouse and black paint-spattered flared jeans sitting at the window, slapping plaster onto an abstract sculpture. There's a knock at the door.)   
  
GIRL: (with a Scottish accent) Come in!   
  
(Mrs. Wilcox and Jane enter.)   
  
MRS. WILCOX: Sasha, your new roommate is here.   
  
(Sasha stands up, wipes her hands on a towel, and turns, hand outstretched.)   
  
SASHA: Nice to meet you, I'm Sasha MacTavish.   
  
(Her smile fades as she sees Jane, still plaster covered standing behind Mrs. Wilcox. Jane takes her hand.)   
  
JANE: Hi. You can call me Venus, I'll be your murderer this afternoon.   
  
(Dissolve to later. Sasha is back working at her sculpture, while casting the occasional furtive glance behind her at Jane, who is now cleaned up and unpacking.)   
  
SASHA: I really am sorry about that. I wasn't trying to hit you. I knocked the bucket out accidentally.   
  
JANE: Look, Sasha, I let you off the hook already. It's fine. I should have expected it around here. (she smirks) Now I know how Daria must have felt at the parade.   
  
SASHA: Who?   
  
JANE: Oh, an old friend back home. (She takes out a framed photo of her and Daria at the Zon and places it on the shelf above her bed.) She got a couple of buckets full of paint dumped over her once.   
  
SASHA: For an art project?   
  
JANE: (short laugh) No. Daria's not an artist...at least not with paint.   
  
SASHA: So, did you have any problems with Customs when you got to Heathrow?   
  
JANE: A little. Nothing major though. (Reaches into her carryon) Nearly gave the Customs guy a heart attack when this happened though. (*click* and the suitcase starts bouncing around again. Sasha's eyebrows raise. Jane smirks again.)   
  
SASHA: What in the WORLD is that?   
  
(Jane pulls out the item. It appears to be a mass of neon colored pens all taped together in one large bundle. She runs her hand along a series of switches and the mass of pens starts rolling over her hand.)   
  
JANE: Squiggle pens. Fun for making people wonder.   
  
SASHA: And other things?   
  
JANE: Well, that goes without saying. (she turns the pens off)   
  
SASHA: (getting up, and wiping her hands on the towel.) Well, not much else to do until the plaster dries. Would you like to see some of the place?   
  
JANE: Sure. I'm pretty much finished unpacking until the rest of my stuff gets here through the mail.   
  
(Cut to the outside of the dormitory. Sasha and Jane come out and walk through the campus, Sasha playing tour guide)   
  
SASHA: Well, we just left the women's dorm, obviously. Over here is the Tremberth Gallery. It has a few classic works, but mostly stuff from prestigious alumni that have graduated.   
  
JANE: In other words, the ones with both talent and money?   
  
SASHA: (wry grin) Sometimes not even the talent.   
  
(They keep walking, passing by the Gallery and over to a cluster of four ivy choked buildings.)   
  
SASHA: These are the remnants of the original Von Knipping estate. They lost all their money just after World War One and converted most of it into the original academy. All talented artists in their own way...   
  
JANE: Never sold a painting, huh?   
  
SASHA: Not a one. (beat) Anyway, these buildings are normally used for class work and individual studios.   
  
JANE: We get studios?   
  
SASHA: Not all of us. Mostly the graduating students who are working on their final projects.   
  
(Jane looks around an points to a small building across the quad.)   
  
JANE: What's that?   
  
SASHA: Oh, that's Greiner Auditorium. We use that for small performance art pieces...and the occasional party.   
  
JANE: How long have you been going here, Sasha?   
  
SASHA: This is my second year. I stay in the dorm since apartments are ridiculously expensive.   
  
JANE: Where are you from?   
  
SASHA: Edinburgh, originally. I have a very strange heritage. My father was born in Glasgow, and my mother is from Kiev.   
  
JANE: Scottish and Russian. Must make family gatherings...interesting.   
  
SASHA: You have no idea. Most people think it's a huge brawl before they realize that we're just naturally that loud.   
  
JANE: Any siblings to drive you nuts?   
  
SASHA: Six. All older than me, thank God. My parents had me late in life. The others were already out of the house when I was born.   
  
JANE: How old are your parents? I mean, if all your brothers and sisters--   
  
SASHA: Just sisters.   
  
JANE: Sisters, then. If they were all out of the house when you were born, that would make your--   
  
SASHA: (getting a large grin. It's apparent she loves to spring this on people) My father is 74, and my mother is 55. I guess I should have mentioned that my mother is my father's second wife. All my sisters are from his first marriage.   
  
JANE: Congratulations. You officially have a more bizzare family than mine.   
  
SASHA: Oh? What's so unusual about your family?   
  
JANE: From the time I was 7, my older brother Trent and I basically raised ourselves. My other brother and my sisters are scattered to the four corners of the earth. Dad's always off photographing something in a foreign country when he's not in jail for expired visas. And when Mom isn't somewhere else in the world, she spends her time in her underground ceramics bunker.   
  
SASHA: Hmmm. That IS odd. Where's your brother these days?   
  
JANE: Asleep in the house for all I know. He was at the airport when I left. He's a musician.   
  
SASHA: Ah. I see.   
  
(At that moment, the girls turn the corner and Jane collides with someone coming the other way. She gets knocked down. She looks up. Close up on the other individual, a tall arrogant looking man with brown hair and a pencil thin mustache dressed in tan slacks, black turtleneck, and a buttoned purple vest. They glare at each other....)   
  
  
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COMMERCIAL BREAK: What do you get when you mix a painting class, an arrogant classmate, a destroyed project, and a custom Lotus? Find out in "Dueling Egos," next on "Brush Strokes: The Adventures of Jane Lane."   
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(Back to the show. Jane is still on the ground with the guy glaring down at her.)   
  
GUY: Why don't you look where you're going?   
  
JANE: Where I'M going? I could say the same thing to you, pal!   
  
GUY: Oh...an American. Typical.   
  
(Jane gets to her feet, reasonably annoyed.)   
  
JANE: Typical! I'll show you typical, you Dick Dastardly-looking--   
  
SASHA: (quickly) Uh, Jane, let me introduce you to one of the upperclassmen here. Neville St. John.   
  
NEVILLE: Excuse me if I don't shake hands.   
  
JANE: Why? Didn't wash them when you came out of the restroom?   
  
SASHA: Neville, this is Jane Lane.   
  
NEVILLE: My dear Sasha, I could care less who this clumsy oaf is...did you say Jane Lane?   
  
SASHA: (with a smug grin on her face) Yes, I did.   
  
(Neville's eyes widen, and his face gets decidedly strained.)   
  
NEVILLE: Excuse me. (he brushes past them in a hurry.)   
  
JANE: Yeah. Go figure out where Dr. Frankenstein hid your manners! (to Sasha) What was that all about?   
  
SASHA: Well, I'm afraid you found out sooner than anyone would have liked. Neville used to be the Golden Boy around here.   
  
JANE: What do you mean 'used to be?'   
  
SASHA:(looking at Jane, perplexed.) You don't know, do you?   
  
JANE: Know what? What are you talking about?   
  
SASHA: The Friedman Scholarship is the Holy Grail around here. It's given to the student that the Selections Committee believes is the most talented student attending that year. Until you applied, Neville had it for the last three years. He wasn't too happy when he learned he was going to have to pay for this year's classes.   
  
JANE: So you're saying that...   
  
SASHA: You're the new Teacher's Pet around here, Jane.   
  
JANE: Oh, GREAT. I've only been here four hours and I already have an arch-enemy.   
  
SASHA: Afraid so. And you already have three strikes against you, to use a baseball metaphor.   
  
JANE: Say what?   
  
SASHA: Well not only did you get the scholarship, but you're a woman and and American.   
  
JANE: Marvelous. So my archenemy is also a sexist and an isolationist.   
  
SASHA: Oh yes. (They walk past a building) Oh, give me just a second, Jane. I need to duck in here. Nature, you know.   
  
JANE: Sure. Go ahead.   
  
(Sasha goes into the building, leaving Jane outside admiring the campus. After a minute, a short, rat faced individual comes up to them and hands Jane a box with a red ribbon.)   
  
RAT FACE: Ah, you must be the American who won the Friedman Scholarship. On behalf of the Von Knipping Welcome Committee, please accept this welcome gift.   
  
JANE: (taking the box) Um, thanks.   
  
RAT FACE: (smiling) Anytime. Enjoy your stay.   
  
(He runs off and Jane examines the box. She shrugs and begins undoing the ribbon. At that point Sasha comes out of the building. She spots Rat Face running across the quad.)   
  
SASHA: Now what is HE up to? (she sees Jane about to open the box. Her eyes widen sharply) JANE! DON'T!   
  
JANE: What?   
  
(POOF! The box spews out a cloud of white powder that covers Jane from head to foot. Jane blinks out from the covering.)   
  
JANE: What the HELL was that?!   
  
(After a moment we see what it is. Red blotches appear on Jane's arms and legs and she starts scratching madly. Sasha comes up and begins escorting her back to the dorm.)   
  
SASHA: Come on, let's get you to the shower before it gets up to strength.   
  
(Cut to the dorm room. We can hear the water running in the 3/4 bath that attatched to the room. Sasha is standing outside the closed door.)   
  
SASHA: Jane, I'm SO sorry. I should have warned you. That was Cyril. He's one of Neville's toadies and he's also a chemistry buff.   
  
JANE: (from behind the door) What the hell was that crap?   
  
SASHA: Cyril's industrial grade itching powder. He likes things like that.   
  
JANE: You think Neville sent him after me?   
  
SASHA: Knowing Neville, he's had Cyril waiting for you to show up ever since he found out your name. Must be where he dashed off to after you ran into him.   
  
(The water shuts off and Jane comes out in a red robe, drying her hair. She's visibly pissed.)   
  
JANE: Where does Neville live?   
  
SASHA: Over in the men's dorm across campus, why?   
  
JANE: Does he have a set schedule?   
  
SASHA: What?   
  
JANE: A routine? Places he always goes at a certain time of day?   
  
SASHA: (looks at the clock on the wall) Well, he usually heads for the cafeteria in about half an hour.   
  
(Jane gets an evil glint in her eye and grins...)   
  
(Dissolve to the Cafeteria. Neville and Cyril are coming up to the building.)   
  
CYRIL: You should have seen it, Nev! She started dancing like a hyperactive midget on heroin!   
  
NEVILLE: Your ridiculous similies never cease to amuse me, Cyril. And stop calling me "Nev."   
  
CYRIL: Oh, right. Sorry, Neville. But that ought to let her know what happens when an American tries to steal your scholarship. I keep this up, and she'll be out of here like shinola through a goose.   
  
NEVILLE: Cyril?   
  
CYRIL: Yeah?   
  
NEVILLE: Shut up.   
  
(They proceed up the stairs. Close up at the top of the steps leading up. A thin tripwire is stretched across the top of the steps. Nevilles foot crosses and sets off the tripwire. Cut to Neville and Cyril just as two buckets of Sasha's plaster and paint mix splatter down onto them. As they stand covered in gunk and wiping it out of their eyes, Jane and Sasha pass by.)   
  
JANE: So I said to Trent--(notices the guys) Oh! Neville, what happened?   
  
SASHA: Looks like he's been the victim of some sort of henious prank.   
  
JANE: But who could have done it, Sasha? Certainly this sort of thing is far beyond anything us mere females could possibly do.   
  
SASHA: Looks like it will remain a mystery, Jane.   
  
JANE: (to Neville) You know, that looks like that quick hardening plaster. You guys better get to a shower before you're stuck here all night.   
  
(Saying this, the two girls enter the cafeteria. Cut to Neville, who is looking even more angry than before.)   
  
NEVILLE: Very well, Miss Lane. I'll pick up the gauntlet.   
  
(Dissolve to later. Sasha and Jane are laughing and revelling in their revenge.)   
  
SASHA: That was PRICELESS. Did you see the expression on his face?   
  
JANE: I thought he was going to have a heart attack!   
  
SASHA: You do realize he won't let this slide.   
  
JANE: Who cares? He started it, and if he wants to continue this crap, I'll be more than happy to demonstrate all 45 chapters of the patented Morgendorffer-Lane Little Black Book of Vengance to him.   
  
SASHA: The Morgendorffer-Lane..?   
  
JANE: ...Little Black Book of Vengance. One day during our senior year, Daria and I got bored and compiled it together. We came up with 45 different categories of non-lethal vengance. Useful in any given situation.   
  
(Sasha laughs and opens the dorm room door...and immediately a balloon filled with orange tempera paint falls from above and splatters all over her.)   
  
JANE: (grinning) And that would be entry number one.   
  
(Sasha glares at her, then grins.)   
  
SASHA: Welcome to London, Jane.   
  
JANE: Thanks...You know, I think I'm going to like it here.   
  
(Freeze frame. The picture goes blue and the credits start to roll...)   
  
  
  
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"Jane Lane" is copyright (C) 2001 MTV Networks and Viacom International. "Sasha MacTavish," "Neville St. John," and "Von Knipping Academy of Art" and all related characters and locations are (C) 2001 by Erin Mills.   
  
Special Thanks to Jill "Leopard Lady" Friedman for all her help in getting me out of the occasional mudhole I got stuck in while writing this.   
  
  



	2. Dueling Egos

BRUSH STROKES:  
THE ADVENTURES OF JANE LANE  
  
by Erin Mills  
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Theme: "Lines"   
  
Pencil, charcoal, pastel and brush Across the canvas of life they play lines intersect, lines depart And so it goes on, day after day   
  
Lines...   
  
Following our path through life   
  
Lines...   
  
Through all of the pain and the strife   
  
Lines...   
  
Lines...   
  
Lines...   
  
(Opening sequence: We see a blank canvas, a hand comes in with a stub of charcoal and begins sketching. As each line is drawn we see ghostly images appear: Jane hugging Daria at an airport, Jane in the backseat of a bs, said bus passing by Trafalgar Square, Jane spattered with paint, side by side with a girl about the same age with red hair tied in a pony tail wearing a paint spattered blue blouse and spattered black flared jeans, Jane facing off against a moderately handsome guy with an arrogant expression and pencil thin mustache. As the theme ends, we pull back to see the picture being drawn is Jane in a circle, a paint brush in hand. The drawing turns color and goes off to the upper right corner of the screen with the title of the series. The title fades out and the title of the episode fades in:)   
  
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Episode 2: Dueling Egos  
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(Fade in on the exterior of the Von Knipping Academy women's dorm. We see Jane standing near the front porch looking up at the window to her room. The camera follows her gaze to see Sasha inside the window, holding onto a rope. The camera follows the rope from Sasha's grip up to the eaves of the roof, through a pulley, and back down to a large plastic trash bag that appears to be leaking. Cut to an overhead shot of Jane, who is kneeling next to a large canvas and moving it.)   
  
JANE: How's that?   
  
SASHA: (Leaning out of the window slightly) A little more to the left!   
  
JANE: Your left or my left?   
  
SASHA: Yours!   
  
(Jane adjusts the canvas then looks back up)   
  
JANE: How about now?   
  
SASHA: Looks good from up here.   
  
JANE: All right, hold on just a sec.   
  
SASHA: Hurry, will you? This bloody thing is getting heavier by the minute.   
  
JANE: Right. (She kneels onto the canvas and draws some hurried lines onto the center of the canvas. She looks back up.) How much did we bet again?   
  
SASHA: Five quid.   
  
JANE: How much is that in dollars?   
  
SASHA: About seven, now will you get the hell out of the way so I can drop this damn thing?   
  
(Jane gets up and backs off by about fifteen feet)   
  
JANE: Let 'er go!   
  
(Sasha releases the rope and the trash bag hurtles to the ground, bursting open on impact, showering the canvas and part of the courtyard with neon green paint. Sasha leaves the window and appears on the front porch a few moments later, while Jane walks over to inspect their handiwork.)   
  
SASHA: Well?   
  
(Jane grabs an edge of the exploded trash bag and drags it off the canvas. This reveals a large irregularly shaped white area on the canvas amid the green. Sasha and Jane lean over. With the lines Jane placed on the canvas, the white area looks like a very deformed profile of Elvis Presley.)   
  
JANE: (smirking) Told you. Pay up.   
  
SASHA: That is not Elvis Presley. Any fool can see that it's Buddy Holly!   
  
JANE: You wish! Look..(begins pointing) There's the sideburns, the pompadour, the nose. Elvis lives, sister. Pay up.   
  
SASHA: And what about that? If those aren't glasses, I'll eat my hat.   
  
JANE: You don't have a hat...but I'll buy you one anyway, because that is quite clearly his eyebrows.   
  
SASHA: And since when did Elvis have a unibrow?   
  
JANE: You ever seen him circa 1977?   
  
(At that point, a short 15-year-old girl with elfin features and brown hair cut in a pageboy style comes out of the dorm. This is Molly Carnavan, Von Knipping's resident wunderkind. As she comes down the stairs, Jane looks up and sees her.)   
  
JANE: Hey, Molly! Got a minute to settle a bet?   
  
MOLLY: (English Accent) What on earth are you two up to now?   
  
JANE: Just come over here.   
  
(Molly sighs and walks over. She looks down at the canvas.)   
  
SASHA: Who does this resemble the most to you?   
  
(Molly frowns in concentration for a moment then:)   
  
MOLLY: Not a bad likeness of Matt Damon, ladies. Excuse me, I'm late for class.   
  
(Sasha and Jane watch her go, then look at each other, down at the canvas, and back to each other.)   
  
JANE: Best of three?   
  
(There's a sudden commotion in the quad. A group of students are clustered around a huge tarp covered object. Sasha and Jane look over. Quick cut to the nearby parking lot, where we see a gorgeous custom built Lotus pull into a space. We see Neville get out of the driver's seat. Cut back to the quad.)   
  
JANE: What's going on?   
  
SASHA: (smiling) I think he's at it again. Come on, you have to see this.   
  
(They walk over to the crowd and we see that the object is standing on a platform. The object is about seven feet tall. Standing in front of it is a young man in his early 20's with black hair and blue eyes. He is dressed in classic "beatnik" garb; a black turtleneck and pants. When he speaks, it's with a VERY faint French accent.)   
  
GUY: All right, all right! Calm down, people. I know you're all anxious to see my latest work.   
  
VOICE FROM THE CROWD: What is it this time, Jean-Pierre? Neo-Athenean Confucianistic Agnoticism?   
  
(cut to Jane and Sasha in the crowd)   
  
JANE: What the hell are they talking about?   
  
SASHA: Allow me to introduce Jean-Pierre Duval. He's a second year student and, if he has his way, the founder of a whole new scool of art.   
  
JANE: Say what?   
  
SASHA: Just watch.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Ha ha. Somebody take that man out to be shot, will you? Thank you. (beat) No, my friends, here you will see my latest triumph!   
  
(The voice pipes up again, and it has an Irish lilt to it)   
  
VOICE: Is this going to be like your triumph with the pasta in the cafeteria last May?   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: HEY! It isn't my fault that al dente pasta doesn't stick for longer than thirty minutes.   
  
VOICE: I told you it wouldn't work.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: (to the crowd) Would somebody take the esteemed Mr. Doverton here and put him out of my misery?   
  
SASHA: No luck there, Jean! Shane's a hell of a lot cuter than you!   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: You wouldn't say that if you saw him in the morning.   
  
SHANE: And when was the last time you saw the sun before two in the afternoon?   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: (ignoring the jibe) Well, regardless of my inconsiderate roommate's accusations, I am happy to present the first in a series of works that will hopefully start the latest artistic movement: Happenstancial Post-Arboreal Zero-Consumable Retainism.   
  
(Jane mouths the words to herself then:)   
  
JANE: Wait a minute, did he just say that this thing is--   
  
(Jean-Pierre pulls back the tarp, revealing a 1/4 scale model of the Von Knipping Administration building. It is built out of long wooden slats, approximately five inches in length. It's unpainted, so it remains in it's original light brown covering. Jean-Pierre stands back proudly.)   
  
JANE: Yep...it's made out of popsicle sticks.   
  
(Sasha takes another look and busts out laughing. Her laughter spreads to the rest of the crowd...and even Jean-Pierre looks at it again and begins laughing. The crowd starts dispersing.)   
  
SASHA: (taking Jane's arm) Come on, you have to meet him.   
  
JANE: I just pointed out the flaw in his work. Are you sure he's not going to jump down my throat?   
  
SASHA: Not everyone here is Neville St. John. Besides, this is his eighteenth try so far. He has a sense of humor about it. Come on...   
  
(They make their way to the platform. We see Jean-Pierre looking the sculpture over, while a brown haired man in jeans and a long sleeved gray T-shirt about the same age stands next to the platform. This is the aforementioned Shane Doverton.)   
  
SHANE: Uh...I think that particular movement's been done already.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: It appears so. Oh well, back to the drawing board, eh?   
  
(Sasha and Jane arrive on the scene.)   
  
SASHA: Oh well, better luck next time, Jean.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: As always, Sasha.   
  
SHANE: (to Sasha) Who's your friend?   
  
JANE: Jane Lane. (she holds out a hand) Nice to meet you.   
  
SHANE: Shane Doverton, you already know the Schooless Wonder here.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: How would you like to find your charcoals used at next week's barbecue? (to Jane) Don't mind him, he just can't appreciate genius.   
  
SHANE: Oh, I can. I just haven't seen any around here lately.   
  
SASHA: Oh, I don't know about that. Jane and I just put together an interesting conceptual art piece. We'd like you to take a look at it.   
  
JANE: Settle a bet, so to speak.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Always happy to help up-and-comers with my insight.   
  
(Shane rolls his eyes.)   
  
(The four of them wander back to the canvas. The two guys examine the profile for a few moments.)   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Interesting use of paint...I like the manipulation of negative space to create such a tormented face...the use of the charcoal on the profile is spectacular, it adds to the pathos of the portrait--   
  
SHANE: It's Elvis, isn't it?   
  
(Jane grins widely and turns to Sasha, who sighs and hands over a five pound note to Jane.)   
  
SASHA: Bloody Irish bastard.   
  
SHANE: I love you too, Sasha.   
  
(A familiar voice chimes in from behind them at that point.)   
  
NEVILLE: Excuse me, but some of us DO have classes to get to and don't have time to wait around behind obnoxious poseurs and loudmouthed hacks who block the route.   
  
(Jane scowls and turs to face her archrival.)   
  
JANE: Oh, look, Von Knipping's own answer to Bill Gates.   
  
NEVILLE: Your sense of humor is as cliched as ever, Miss Lane.   
  
JANE: And your head is still as big as ever.   
  
NEVILLE: While yours resembles a lollipop...but as much as I would like to stay here all day and verbally bash you, class does call, so I will thank all four of you to get out of my way.   
  
SASHA: Why don't you go around, Neville? I don't think your ego can fit through the group.   
  
NEVILLE: I find that remark, my dear Sasha, to be about as sad as one of those pathetic plaster eyesores of yours that currently take up valuable space in the Gallery.   
  
SHANE: There's no need to get personal--   
  
NEVILLE: Oh? And what about you, Mr. Doverton? Haven't you given up this silly little obsession with breaking the family ties? Give up and go back to your father's estate in Dublin. I'm sure your inheritance will still be waiting for you.   
  
SHANE: (turning red) You stuck-up, self-centered--   
  
NEVILLE: (grinning nastily) I believe you mean, "self-made."   
  
(Shane looks like he's about to haul off and deck Neville, but Jean-Pierre restrains him.)   
  
NEVILLE: Yes, keep your pet Irishman on his leash, Duvall.   
  
JANE:(with admiration in her voice) You know, Neville, I've been through a lot in my short life, but I have never seen someone like you before...   
  
SASHA: Jane! Think about what you're saying!   
  
(Close up on Jane, whose expression turns from admiration to mischief.)   
  
JANE: ...Never seen a paitent who survived the Horse's Ass transplant before.   
  
(The others start laughing. Cut to Neville, who betrays no emotion whatsoever, aside from a mild frowning.)   
  
NEVILLE: Very mature, Miss Lane. Nice to see the American educational system is remaining consistent. Excuse me.   
  
(He shoves his way through the group and off screen.)   
  
JANE: Jerk.   
  
SHANE: Are you sure it's a good idea to antagonize him?   
  
JANE: Were you sure it would be a good idea to break his jaw?   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: She's got a point, Shane.   
  
(At that point, the school's PA comes to life with the voice of Arthur Von Knipping, the president of the school.)   
  
VON KNIPPING: Attention, young artists. We, the school administration and faculty, are pleased to announce the second annual Freestyle Art Competition. You may enter any form of artwork that you like into the competition. The piece that takes Best of Show will give the artist three days touring the museums and archetectural wonders of Paris all at the Academy's expense. You may work alone or collaborate with other artists. All forms of art are welcome from painting, sketches, sculpture, performance art, anything. The only limit is your own imagination. Entries are to be finished for the public showing in the quad in three weeks. Good luck!   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Of course. Right as I have to start all over again.   
  
JANE: Three days in Paris?   
  
SASHA: Yep. The winner last year got three days in Amsterdam.   
  
JANE: Who won?   
  
SHANE: Who do you think?   
  
JANE: Oh...lovely. Does everything at this school revolve around Neville?   
  
SHANE: More or less.   
  
SASHA: Rumor has it he blackmailed the entire adminishtration somehow.   
  
JANE: I don't trust the rumor mill. Never have.   
  
SHANE: Good policy. Just because someone's an ass doesn't mean they're evil.   
  
SASHA: I guess. But it's not hard to imagine.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: So, Jane, going to make a splash on campus with the competition?   
  
JANE: (smirks) I may have something in mind.   
  
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COMMERCIAL: Party like there's no tomorrow...because there isn't.   
"Last Night In Lawndale" Coming Soon from Shallow 15 Productions.   
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(Back to the show. The quad again, only this time it's night and there's a large tarp covering a section of one of the walls that make up the quad. There's a rustling under the tarp and a paint spattered Jane and Sasha emerge.)   
  
JANE: There, that oughta do it.   
  
SASHA: (stretching) I hope so. Two weeks of nightly work on this mural of yours has taken it's toll.   
  
JANE: Aww, what? You not getting the beauty sleep you need to face Jean in the mornings?   
  
SASHA: Oh shut up. We don't have that kind of relationship.   
  
JANE: And what about last Tuesday when I came back to the room?   
  
SASHA: That was just us having a bit of fun.   
  
JANE: And the water balloons and rubber spatulas fit in how exactly?   
  
SASHA: Drop it, Lane...or I'll bust you right in the nose.   
  
JANE: Not a bad threat, but lacking the truly evil edge you need to intimidate me.   
  
(At this point, Shane and Jean-Pierre walk up to them.)   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Evening ladies.   
  
SHANE: How's the mural coming?   
  
SASHA: Finished, thank God.   
  
JANE: Not quite...it still needs a little touching up before the competition tomorrow. But Sasha's part in this is over so she can get back to her aerobics routine.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Aerobics? (thinks and grins) Ah...AEROBICS.   
  
SASHA:(to Jane) You really don't value your nose much, do you?   
  
SHANE: (ignoring all this) Since you two have finished for the night, Jean and I were going to slip off to the pub for some drinks and food. You both are welcome to join us if you like.   
  
JANE: Well, while I was hoping to get some life drawings of Sasha and Jean in action--   
  
SASHA: Now, you're asking me to cut it off.   
  
JANE: (ignoring her)--I'm game.   
  
SASHA: And I suppose I'd better go in order to prevent this dirty-minded American from slandering me in public.   
  
JANE: It's not slander if it's true.   
  
(The four of them walk off, Sasha and Jane still bickering. We pull back to see a shadowy figure watching them leave. The figure puts a cigarette in it's mouth. When the cigarette is lit, we see that the figure is Neville and he has a dark expression on his face...)   
  
(Cut to the interior of a pub somewhere. The Gang of Four are around a table, beers in front of them, with the remnants of greasy pub food on plates in front of them. Jane leans back in her seat.)   
  
JANE: (finishing off her beer) Oh God, I can feel the hangover already forming.   
  
SASHA: Lightweight.   
  
JANE: Sorry, but where I come from beer doesn't form sediment at the bottom of the glass.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Now, now ladies, you're both pretty...   
  
SASHA: Drop dead, darling.   
  
JANE: Hey, I just thought of something.   
  
SASHA: Oh, more juvenile sexual innuendo?   
  
JANE: I know where you sleep, MacTavish.   
  
SASHA: Ooo! Is that an invitation?   
  
(Jane studiously ignores this and turns to Shane)   
  
JANE: What did Neville mean by "your inheritance will still be waiting for you?" And why did it get you so riled?   
  
(Jean-Pierre and Sasha swallow their mouthfuls hard and look at Shane. Surprisingly, he doesn't appear to have minded the question.)   
  
SHANE: Oh, it all has to do with my dad back in Dublin.   
  
JANE: Huh?   
  
SHANE: Dad owns a factory in Dublin. Plastics moulding. We're fairly wealthy.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: And, unfortunately, Doverton Sr. is obsessed with young Shane here carrying on the family business.   
  
JANE: Oh the old "You'll never get anywhere drawing pictures" routine?   
  
SHANE: Oh, you get it, too?   
  
JANE: Not from my immediate family, but when family reunions come around, look out. (beat) So, if he's so dead set against you being an artist how did you convince him to let you attend the academy?   
  
SHANE: (grinning) Granddad, actually.   
  
JANE: Granddad?   
  
SHANE: He was an artist himself. He never made it to international prominence, but he's fairly well known in Ireland. Anyway, he managed to turn it into a living and when he saw that I was interested in art when I attended school, he set up a clause in his will that provided me with a large trust fund provided I attended Von Knipping.   
  
JANE: I take it your grandpa and your dad didn't get along.   
  
SHANE: No, not really. Besides this was my mother's father. And when she died, well, Dad...changed, but he still relented when it came to the trust fund.   
  
JANE: Damn.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: All right, that's quite enough self-pity for one night. We're here to relax!   
  
SHANE: All right then, what do you have in mind?   
  
(Jean and Sasha exchange smirks.)   
  
SHANE: Uh-oh...I know that smirk.   
  
JANE: What?   
  
JEAN & SASHA: DRINKING CONTEST!!!   
  
(Montage. Song Cue: "Beer, Beer, Beer"--The Clancy Brothers. We see the Gang of Four sitting around the table as a waitress periodically brings large pitchers of beer around. The gang is laughing, telling jokes, carrying on. We see Jean-Pierre and Shane, arms around each other's shoulders, and looking quite tipsy, singing loudly. Next, we see Sasha and Jean tangoing around the table. Jane, looking a little unsteady on her feet, taps Sasha on the shoulder and mimes cutting in. Sasha shrugs, leaves Jean, and tangoes off with Jane. Cut to later. Sasha and Jean are sucking face, while Jane and Shane stare at each other unsteadily, beers in hand. Shane counts to three on his fingers and both start chugging the beer. Jane finishes first, slams her mug on the table, smiles, and just as the last phrase of the song ["Ah, God bless Charlie Mops!"] finishes, she falls out of her chair and onto the floor. Jean and Sasha stop slathering over each other to look down at her.)   
  
SASHA: (with her accent hugely exaggerated) I tole ye ye were a lightweight...   
  
(Cut to the quad of the Academy. Our four sloshed heroes are making their way on campus. Sasha and Shane are supporting Jane who is having some difficulty staying upright. As they clamber across the quad...)   
  
JANE: Y'know, you guys're great. I was consarn--constern--worried that no one would like me when I got out here.   
  
SASHA: Uh-huh...just keep walking, Jane.   
  
JANE: (to Sasha) Aww, she doesn't like me! (turns to Shane) You like me, don'tcha Shane?   
  
SASHA: Oh for the love of--Jane, I do like you, but I think you had a little too much to drink.   
  
JANE: Naaaah. Couldn't be--CRAP!   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Couldn't be crap? Then what is it? Vomit? (giggles)   
  
JANE: No! Look!   
  
(Cut to the wall where Jane's mural was. "Was" being the operative word. The tarp has been torn down, the scaffolding is a mess, and whatever Jane was working on is now a batch of multicolored smears running down the wall. Jane breaks away from the group, slightly more sober and collapses next to the wall. She looks over the wreckage, and runs a finger through the paint smears. Reverse angle, so we see Jane kneeling next to the wall. Sasha comes up and puts a hand on her shoulder.)   
  
SASHA: Jane?   
  
(Jane turns to look at her...and we see something we've never seen on Jane's face before. Not even during the Tom Incident...   
  
Pure, unadulterated rage.)   
  
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COMMERCIAL BREAK: Sasha and Jane are off to Scotland for Sasha's father's birthday, and Jane is going to find that the MacTavish clan leaves the Lane family WAAAY behind in weirdness...and that's only after she finds out about Sasha's own quirkiness. Features family spats, Scottish stereotypes, and NUDITY! "Birthday Suit" next time on "Brush Strokes: The Adventures of Jane Lane."   
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(Back to Jane and Sasha's room. The door bursts open and a furious Jane bursts into the room. Sasha follows behind her and turns on the light. Even though she has more motor control than before, it's quite clear that Jane is still very drunk.)   
  
SASHA: Jane? Jane, are you all right?   
  
JANE: He ruined it. That no good, smug faced, son of a bitch ruined it.   
  
SASHA: It's all right, Jane, it can be fixed...   
  
JANE: NO IT CAN'T! I spent two damn weeks getting that mural finished, that's if you don't count the actual week's worth of planning that was involved, as well as requisitioning the god damn supplies! RUINED, SASHA! IT'S RUINED!   
  
SASHA: I'm sorry, Jane. I know how it must feel.   
  
JANE: NO, YOU DON'T! How can you understand?! You don't know me! No one here does! The only person who could possibly understand is over 10,000 miles away!   
  
(Jane pauses in her rant, then opens her desk and rummages through some papers.)   
  
SASHA: What are you doing?   
  
(Jane doesn't answer. She snatches up a piece of paper and the phone dialing an international number. We hear the phone ring and then...)   
  
DARIA: (on phone) Hello?   
  
JANE: HE RUINED IT, DARIA!   
  
DARIA: What the--JANE?   
  
JANE: Who the hell else do you know who'd be spending a fortune to rant at you from London?   
  
DARIA: Jane, what's--   
  
(Cut to a wider shot of the room. We can now only hear Jane's half of the conversation.)   
  
JANE: He ruined it!...my mural!...I worked for two weeks on it. It was my triumph, Daria! I was going to get that trip to Paris!...What?...Well...Oh all right! I had a few pints...Pints, Daria...as in beer?...No! No, I am not!...Why you little, I oughta fly back home and--   
  
SASHA: (Reaches over and takes the phone from Jane.) All right, I think I'd better step in here before you do some permanent damage.   
  
JANE: HEY! (she keeps grabbing for the phone but Sasha manages to keep her at an arm's length while she gets on the phone.)   
  
SASHA: (into phone) Hello? Daria? This is Sasha MacTavish, Jane's roommate....Yes, she's a little upset right now...It was for a contest.   
  
JANE: (Reaching for the phone) Gimme...c'mon....gimme the phone!   
  
SASHA: (Continuing) We finished it tonight and went out for a celebration...yes, she did have a few...Well, when we came back it was destroyed...solvent, turpentine, who knows?...No...has she ever been this outraged before?...If you have any suggestions...Right...right...Okay....Yes, I'll do that...All right. Nice to talk to you, Daria. I'll have her call you tomorrow...   
  
JANE: I wanna talk to her NOW!   
  
SASHA: Goodbye. (She hangs up.)   
  
JANE: Why you...(Jane takes a wild swing at Sasha, who cathes the wild punch and manuevers Jane down on her bed.)   
  
SASHA: Daria's a good friend to you, you know that? (She takes Jane's vest off, and begins unlacing her shoes.) If it were up to me, I'd shove you under a cold shower, but since she's your best friend and she seems to know what's best for you, I'm just going to let you sleep it off.   
  
JANE: (beginning to fade from hitting the bed and coming off the anger high) That's rat bastard St. John...ruined it...   
  
SASHA: (dropping Jane's shoes on the floor and covering her with a blanket.) Yes, I know.   
  
JANE:...'m gonna get him...rippiznutzoff....   
  
SASHA: Yes, I'm sure you will. But sleep now, you'll be able to take care of it tomorrow.   
  
JANE: Damn straight...   
  
(She passes out. Sasha looks down at Jane, who still has an expression of anger, even as she sleeps. Sasha frowns, looks out the window towards the men's dorm, then down. Cut to a shot of the wreckage, where Shane and Jean-Pierre are cleaning up the mess. Sasha appears from off screen, and we see the three talking, before going off in different directions.)   
  
(Cut to the next morning. Jane energes from under the blanket, in the throes of a major hangover.)   
  
JANE: uuunnnhhhh...   
  
(She peers over at Sasha's bed. It hasn't been slept in. Jane hauls herself out of bed, and into the bathroom.)   
  
JANE: Water...   
  
(She fills the sink, and holds herself up by leaning on it. She fumbles through the medicine cabinet, unearthing a bottle of aspirin. She manages to get two tablets out and swallows them dry. She shuts the water off on the nearly full sink, sighs, then dunks her head in the water. She comes up a few seconds later.)   
  
JANE: Aaaah! (breathes) Well, it'll do for now...   
  
(Later. Jane walks out into the quad, sunglasses on. The quad is filled to capacity with various students displaying their entries for the contest. Jane looks depressed as she makes her way past the paintings, sculptures, and other artwork. As she walks through the crowd, she encounters Molly, who is displaying a gorgeous mideval style tapestry.)   
  
MOLLY: Jane!   
  
JANE: (holding her head) Unnhh. Molly...please..don't shout.   
  
MOLLY: (subdued) Sorry.   
  
JANE: 'S okay. (She looks at the tapestry.) Wow. This is really good, Molly.   
  
MOLLY: Thanks. Where's yours? I didn't see it anywhere.   
  
(At that point, Neville passes by and grins.)   
  
NEVILLE: Well, I wouldn't worry, young Molly. I'm sure Miss Lane's entry will be quite...unusual. (he examines the tapestry.) Well, well...this is very interesting work, Molly...very interesting...a pity it's nothing original or provacative.   
  
JANE: That's it. (She turns on Neville) It isn't bad enough that you annihilated my project, is it? No, you have to belittle everyone else's work as well. Why is that? Are you really so threatened by anyone who has as much talent as you that you have to ruin the experience for everyone? Or is it something else? Tell me, Neville...do you suffer from a small penis?   
  
(Neville looks coolly down at her.)   
  
NEVILLE: Penile jokes are the last refuge of the slow witted, Miss Lane.   
  
JANE: And destroying a competitor's entry is the last refuge of the talentless!   
  
NEVILLE: I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about.   
  
JANE: DIE!!!   
  
(With that, she leaps on top of Neville and sends the two of them hurtling into a nother display. Jane begins pounding on Neville's chest, while he grabs her shoulders and tries to get her off of him. Molly tries to pull Jane off him.)   
  
MOLLY: Jane, please! This won't do any good!   
  
JANE: (to Neville) You sactimonious, egotistical, self-centered...   
  
NEVILLE: It takes one to know one, Lane!   
  
(Shane and Jean-Pierre, paint spattered, appear through the crowd, see what's happening, and work to separate the two. Jean-Pierre pulls Jane off Neville while Shane helps him up.)   
  
JANE: Let go! You saw what he did!   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: (whispering in her ear) Jane, Sasha has it covered, trust us.   
  
JANE: What?   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Just smile, play along, and you won't get in trouble for that.   
  
(At that point, Arthur Von Knipping and several other faculty members arrive. Von Knipping is an balding elderly man dressed in a pinstripe suit.)   
  
VON KNIPPING: What on EARTH is going on here?   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Ah, Mr. Von Knipping. We're sorry about that. It was a misunderstanding.   
  
NEVILLE: A misunderstanding?! She bloody well attacked me!   
  
SHANE: Yes, well, we're sorry about that, Neville. We told Jane that I was going to be dressed like you. I guess we misinterpreted that.   
  
NEVILLE: What?   
  
JANE: WHAT?!   
  
VON KNIPPING: Yes, I'd quite like to know what this is all about.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: It's very simple, Mr. Von Knipping. This was a performance art piece the three of us, along with Sasha MacTavish, put together for this competition. It called for a look alike of Neville, which Shane was going to play and Jane was going to attack. Unfortunately, we were working the last few bits down at the pub last night, and I guess Jane misinterpreted what we said.   
  
(Von Knipping frowns then looks at Jane.)   
  
VON KNIPPING: Is this true, Miss Lane?   
  
(Jane looks up at Shane and Jean-Pierre, who nids, then over at Neville, who is seething. She puts out a hand towards Neville.)   
  
JANE: Ah hell, guys. Why didn't you remind me this morning? I'm sorry about that, Neville. No hard feelings?   
  
(Von Knipping looks at the apparent sincerity in Jane's face, then at Neville.)   
  
VON KNIPPING: Well, Mr. St. John?   
  
(Neville raises an eyebrow, then takes Jane's hand and shakes.)   
  
NEVILLE: Well...I'm sure it was a perfectly honest mistake. I'm willing to let it go...this time.   
  
(They glare at each other.)   
  
VON KNIPPING: Good. I'm glad this was worked out...and I HOPE there will be no further instances of this?   
  
JANE: No.   
  
NEVILLE: None at all.   
  
(Neither takes their eyes of the other.)   
  
VON KNIPPING: Well, since you've already started, is that it, Mr. Duval?   
  
SASHA: (appearing on the scene) Not quite. Ladies and gentlemen, this way for the final unveiling.   
  
(She leads them to a roped off area of the quad, where there is another large tarp-covered object, only longer than it is tall. The students and faculty crowd around. Sasha lets the other three of the Gang of Four into the roped off area.)   
  
JANE: (whispering to Sasha) What the hell are you doing?   
  
SASHA: (whispering back) Giving Neville what he deserves. Just go with it. (louder) Ladies and gentlemen, before my overenthusatic collaborator jumped the gun, the concept behind this piece was called "Sweet Revenge." Basically, it was to tell the story of two artists locked in such a violent competition, they began taking matters into their own hands. It led to one of the artists destroying the other's work.   
  
(She points to where the remanats of Jane's mural are still in evidence. Everyone looks and one or two people gasp. Neville frowns, sure that something is up.)   
  
SASHA: Greived, and angered by this blantant act of sabotage, the other artist takes matters into her own hands and turns the symbol of her hated adversary into it's own work of art. And with the generousity of Neville St. John, who provided the main part of this piece, we are pleased to reveal the final result. Ladies and Gentlemen..."Sweet Revenge."   
  
(Shane and Jean-Pierre throw back the tarp, revealing the crushed and mutilated form of Neville's Lotus. The windshield is shattered, the tires are slashed. The body and doors appear to have been pounded in several places with a sledgehammer, and the whole thisn has been covered in neon green spray paint and orange silly string. The effect is...satisfying. The crowd stares in astonishment, then slowly some applause starts building up, until the entire crowd is applauding. Neville stares, stone faced at the Gang of Four. Jane and Sasha look back and Jane mouths "Gotcha" at him. Neville salutes them with two fingers and makes his way out of the crowd.)   
  
(Cut to later. The Gang of Four is back at the pub, having lunch and celebrating.)   
  
JANE: I have to hand it to you guys. That was great!   
  
SHANE: Congratulate Sasha. It was her idea.   
  
SASHA: Just doing something everyone's wanted to do for a while.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: Shame we didn't win though...but 500 pounds is nothing to sneeze at.   
  
SASHA: Too bad we had to give it all to Neville to keep him quiet.   
  
JANE: Better that than getting expelled. Besides, I'm glad Molly won the contest. She deserves it.   
  
JEAN-PIERRE: True. Very true.   
  
SHANE: Well, then, I propose a toast. (He raises his glass) To the victors!   
  
ALL: To the Victors!   
  
(And once again...)   
  
NEVILLE: And to those with the spoils.   
  
(He strides up to the table.)   
  
JANE: What do you want, St. John?   
  
NEVILLE: Simple enough. I'm here to commend you. The damage to my car notwithstanding, it's a pleasure to see someone who isn't cowed by my very presence.   
  
SASHA: A complement. The day is full of surprises.   
  
NEVILLE: (leaning into Jane) These petty victories notwithstanding, Miss Lane, I'm giving you an ultimatum, stay OUT of my way. You'll find life will be much easier if you do.   
  
JANE: All right. Tell you what. I'll stay out of your face, but--   
  
NEVILLE: Yes?   
  
JANE: You back off on me, Molly, and everyone at this table. Basically, we reenact the late 1980's. Mutual non-aggression pact. Fair?   
  
NEVILLE: (considers) Very well, Miss Lane. I agree to your terms.   
  
JANE: Good. Now, get lost. We're eating here.   
  
NEVILLE: (smirks) Of course. Good day, Miss Lane.   
  
(He walks off, leaving the Gang of Four to celebrate. He goes to the door and looks back at Jane.)   
  
NEVILLE: Yes, Miss Lane, we will reenact the late 1980's...the problem with the late 1980's, however, was that the situation could explode at any time...   
  
(He smirks again and walks off. In the background, the Gang of Four toast again. The screen freezes and goes blue. Roll credits.)   
  
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"Jane Lane" and "Daria Morgendorffer" are (C)2001 MTV Networks and Viacom International. All other characters and locales are (c) 2001 by Erin Mills.   
  
  



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